waiting on the edge
by DC World
Summary: re-post of my AU chapter for Klaine Week. "As Blaine had slowly began to glance his friend over - taking in his lifeless eyes, his sunken face, his suddenly noticeable weight lose- a sickening realization dawned on him. Kurt truly did want to die."


**I had posted this one-shot as my AU for my contribution to Klaine Week, but I was unable to complete all the one-shots due my the fact that my opa was in the hospital that week and I spent most of my either there or at work. So, I had decided to just take it down. But, I really liked this one-shot so I decided to re-post it. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Trollocs, they belong to the late Robert Jordan. I also, obviously, don't own glee. **

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**Waiting on the edge **

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A whirlwind of voices began to swirl around Blaine's mind as he took a deep breath and stared straight ahead - using every ounce of will power he could muster to force himself not to think about what would unavoidably take place in the eerily barren clearing between where he was standing and the edge of the forest that grew in the shadow of the mountains. But it was all in vain. His heartbeat was pounding so hard in his ears it seemed to block out all other noise, his hands shaking so much he was certain that if they got attacked at this very moment he would not even be able to keep his sword steady, never mind actually use it. To say he was petrified would be an understatement.

He closed his eyes for a brief second in an attempt to regain some self control. _It will be just like play fighting with Cooper in the backyard when we were kids, nothing to be afraid of_. Except Cooper didn't carry rusty jagged edged swords and spikes or have enough strength to rip your arms clean out of their sockets . Cooper didn't have a fervent imprinted hatred towards mankind or a blood curdling appetite for human flesh. And Cooper wasn't bred solely for the purpose of killing him and every other living creature that had found refuge in this remote village he was currently - with the help of twenty- nine other young men, including his best friend- standing watch over.

Quickly he re- opened his eyes and scanned the tree line, keeping look out for anything remotely suspicious. Any warning - even if it was small one- could make a world of difference. But, everything was still and silent, much like the calm before a big storm. And the silence was unnerving - intensifying both his anxiety and the voices.

_They will be here by night fall…outnumbered by fifty to one… nasty creatures Trollocs are, would sooner rip you to pieces then look at you…they will not outlast the night…_

But it was not the villager's whispers of impending doom that was beginning to unhinged his generally stable state of mind. It was a different voice. The voice of someone so desolate - so desperate - that any trace of the young man once filled with endless amounts of optimism and zest for life had long been lost and forgotten. It was a voice whose tone frightened Blaine more then any amount of hungry Trollocs ever could.

_Yeah, well maybe I__'m ready to die. _

Kurt's retort had sounded so certain and unyielding that for a moment the only thing Blaine could do was stare at him - his eyes transfixed on his other half's face in hopes that he would catch a glimmer of something, anything, that showed he wasn't serious. But there had been nothing. And as Blaine had slowly began to glance his friend over - taking in his lifeless eyes, his sunken face, his suddenly noticeable weight lose- a sickening realization dawned on him. Kurt truly did want to die. And what better way to insure that then to volunteer yourself to fight in a battle in which there was a slim to none chance of survival?

Slowly Blaine peeled his eyes away from the trees and scanned the area for Kurt . He had long ago made a promise that he would watch over and protect him in every way humanly possible. And despite Kurt's sudden undesired lack of a will to live, he was not about to break that promise.

He found him standing approximately forty feet away, staring at one of the many houses in the village and began to walk over in his direction, taking note of the fact that Kurt seemed oblivious to the hustle and bustle going on around him. This bothered Blaine deeply. Kurt was never one to sit and wait around idly - if there was work to be done, plans to be made, he was always the one everyone looked at to organize everything. His present demeanour seemed to emphasize that he was beyond caring.

Blaine shook his head to rid himself of such negative thoughts. Neither he nor Kurt were going to die today, and that was it. He had to believe this - to not would be unbearable.

Gingerly he placed a hand on Kurt's shoulder and took a deep breath. Unsure what say or do he opted to just allow his friend to make the first move.

Kurt didn't flinch at Blaine's touch- a sure sign that he was fully aware of his friend's presence - but also kept his eyes fixed on an eagle that was flying high above the rooftops, the only sign of life besides the other men in the area. It wasn't until the magnificent bird was out of sight that he spoke up. " I can't sleep anymore, Blaine." His voice was barely a whisper, but he might as well have yelled it out, for that was how loud and clear Blaine heard what he had said, what he had meant. " I keep hearing them screaming…and it's like they is right there beside me. And I can't do anything about it." He slowly turned to face his friend, one lone tear trickling down his dirty face.

A wave of relief flooded over Blaine. Kurt was crying, was showing an emotion. And emotions meant that something deep down was still alive inside of him. There was still a flicker of hope.

" Sometimes…sometimes I wish they would've taken me too," Kurt conceded as pulled out one of his custom made daggers and began to twirl it in his fingers - a habit he had picked up a few years back from one of the Traveling People that had crossed his path. Although not as gifted as most men his age when it came to using a sword, quarterstaff or partaking in any hand to hand combat for that matter, over the years Kurt had become quite skilled at using his daggers. Once he had figured out that out smarting your opponent was just as important as general physical strength, he had thrown himself whole heartily into the task of mastering his weapon of choice- most people did not expect a quick slash to the back of the legs or a carefully aimed dagger to the chest. One rarely saw him without his weapon these days- both a sign of his true attachment to his craft and of the ominous threat of sudden life threatening danger that seemed to be on the rise as of late.

Blaine shook his head vigorously at his friend's confession. They could not go down this road - not again. He would not allow Kurt 's survivor's guilt dampened out what little hope he had. " No, Kurt , no. You can't blame yourself for what happened to Finn or Rachel."

" And why not?" Kurt barked at him, spinning around and throwing his dagger into the nearest tree - the sound it made when it connected with it's target causing several of the men rushing by to momentarily glance up. Kurt's sudden outburst caused Blaine to instinctively back up - although more inclined to lash someone with words, they had been friends long enough for Blaine to know that Kurt could be very dangerous and if he wanted to be.

" I should have stopped them Blaine, but I didn't…I couldn't. " His body had now began to tremble- Blaine marvelling had how fast his friend had gone from being emotionless to being overwhelmed with it. " Those monsters stole my brother and his wife and dragged them away…." he paused for a moment as if he couldn't even comprehend what he had actually done, "….and…and I just let them." Kurt 's face paled as he was once again hit with the reality of what had happened two nights ago . " My God," he began to take short raspy breaths, " they…they…"

Blaine watched as Kurt suddenly doubled over and began to retch, a bright yellow liquid spewing from his mouth. He cried out in both pain and disgust as his bile seemed to force itself out - the repulsive after taste lingering in his mouth . Blaine closed his eyes and took a couple of calming breaths, the sight of his friend throwing up bile from his gallbladder causing memories of a childhood bought of the stomach flu that had been so bad he had been sure he was going upheave internal organs to be pushed to the forefront of his mind.

Finally after what seemed like hours Kurt 's vomiting subsided and Blaine slowly opened his eyes, glancing warily at his friend- who was now on his knees, trembling from head to toe, his messy hair mangled to his forehead, excess bile dripping down his chin.

An immoral thought suddenly leeched it's way into Blaine's mind, haunting him by it's mere presence. _Maybe he does deserve to die. _

The thought hit him with such intensity that for a moment Blaine was sure he was going to join Kurt on the ground- emptying out what little contents were still in his stomach. But he knew that he wouldn't do that - couldn't do that. One of them had to stay strong if they were both going to make it through the night.

Tentatively Blaine knelt on the ground and wrapped his arm around Kurt's body, ignoring the looks he knew they were getting from the now gathering group of men who were supposed to be on look out, and pulling him into a hug. Slowly he began to rub his back in big circles and rock him back and forth, whispering words of knowingly false encouragement in his ear. " Shh…it will all be over soon, buddy. And then we'll be able to go back home."

Blaine felt a tear escape and slide slowly down his check as he said this, a small revolution occurring to him. More then anything he missed home. He missed the constant hustle and bustle of the hundreds of boys that called Dalton their home. He missed the smell of freshly baked bread the cook made every Wednesday and Saturday. He even missed the mundane task of hauling wood from the woodpile to the various fireplaces around the Orphanage. But most of all he the freedom of just being a normal teenage boy.

He closed his eyes, allowing a multitude of images to flash before him- sneaking out of Orphanage grounds in the middle of the night, riding horses in the fields, singing every evening after supper. It was ironic how all his life he had wanted an adventure, excitement, and now that he had it, all he wanted was to go home.

The sound of a loud horn that seemed to echo throughout the entire valley jerked Blaine back into reality. Grabbing a hold of Kurt under the arms, he quickly hosted him to his feet. Adrenaline kicked in, momentarily knocking Kurt out of his funk. Primal instincts were now taking over - the ones that wanted him to live. Blaine watched as his friend gave his mouth a wipe and closed his eyes for second, attempting to find any courage hidden within, before giving his head a shake. He wasn't ready to give up just yet.

Together they - along with every other man on guard - turned to collectively stare at the tree line. The sight before them was enough to make even the toughest cringe. The masses of beasts emerging from the forest and into the clearing was so numerous that Blaine was positive that if they had the ability to view this scene from the air, the entire area would look like one big giant sea of black. Instinctively he placed his hand on his sword and heard the sound of Kurt whip out both his daggers.

He took a deep breath - this was it. This could very well be his last night here. But as he watched the Trollocs start to advance their attack on the village his only thought was he was glad to have Kurt by his side. And that if he had to die, he wouldn't want to have it any other way.

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**So what did you think? If anyone has any ideas on how to expand on this, I give you my blessing to take it and giver. I may or may not write a story/some one-shots involving this verse. **

**As always, reviews make my day. And for anyone reading " Your PenPal" don't dispare, I haven't given up- just haven't had time to really write lately, which is sad :( **


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